


sink your feet into the mud (and I'll return)

by violetmessages



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Series 03 Fix-It: Children of Earth (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetmessages/pseuds/violetmessages
Summary: What if she could bring Ianto back?It’s a dangerous idea. It’s got the potential to be catastrophic. But Gwen is all out of options. She’s surrounded by the graves of the people she loves, abandoned, save for her husband, and she refuses to let her best friend go without a fight.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper & Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 27
Kudos: 66
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: Halloween Fest 2020





	sink your feet into the mud (and I'll return)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beleriandings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/gifts).



> Thank you to Nik for editing and helping with the title. For Bel, thank you for the idea! This fic is based off of [this](https://hgk477.tumblr.com/post/187209524924/how-to-bring-someone-back-from-the-dead) tumblr post. 
> 
> Written for Torchwood Fan Fest's Halloween Fest.

What if she could bring Ianto back?

It’s a dangerous idea. It’s got the potential to be catastrophic. But Gwen is all out of options. She’s surrounded by the graves of the people she loves, abandoned, save for her husband, and she refuses to let her best friend go without a fight. 

See Gwen’s first time meeting the fairies might have been with Jasmine. But that doesn’t mean she’s never heard of them before. There have been... _incidents_. Her family’s always been odd - something her mother has tried very hard to shield her from. But it wasn’t enough to shield her from the whispers that followed her when her mother took her to visit her grandparents - before they passed away. 

The only one left to talk to nowadays is her aunt that her mother doesn’t like to talk about. Her grandmother used to say that Auntie Aelwen had The Gift. Her mother says that her aunt is funny in the head. She would have agreed with her mother before. But she’s desperate. 

Auntie Aelwen’s hands shake as Gwen hands her a cup of tea. Her aunt pulls her shawl around her tighter as Gwen softly whispers her secrets to her. About Torchwood, about the aliens, and the fairies. Her aunt delicately places her hand over Gwen’s when she begins to talk about Ianto. She’s actively sobbing by the end, pleading with her aunt to help her.

“You need to be strong,” her aunt says finally. “This will be hard. But you can get him back.”

“Tell me what to do.”

She waits till spring to enact her plan. She leaves Anwen with Rhys, giving her a final kiss on the top of her little forehead, and leaving before she starts sobbing. She wants a good memory of her daughter to keep in her heart as she embarks, not a sad one. 

It’s late afternoon when she arrives. Gwen stands on the edge of the densest forest she can find, hiking books clad on her feet, and backpack swinging from her back. Inside it, she carries two coats, a twenty pence coin, a white rose, a blanket, a flashlight, extra batteries, lots of food and water, and Ianto’s beloved stopwatch. Taking a deep breath, she steps forward into the foliage. 

Gwen walks for hours. The forest grows colder as she gets deeper, tinting everything around into a dapple green. The sun above shines brightly, getting lower and lower as the day swells on, until she can no longer see it anymore. She doesn’t look up - having been warned not to waste time. Instead, she keeps her gaze forward, walking through the trees. Leaves crunch below her feet, and she can hear distant crunches all around her. She does not stop. 

The day grows colder and darker, the bright pinks of the sunset turning deep purple, then a rich blue, finally giving way to the darkest of navy. The path before keeps getting darker, yet she does not turn on her flashlight. Gwen’s vision becomes darker, odd shadows passing by. She’s exhausted, having walked for hours. She walks and walks and walks until she can no longer see before her. Then she stops and turns to her left. 

There, in the distance, glows a faint white light. 

Gwen turns and walks towards it. This, Auntie Aelwen had told her, was the hardest part. Here was where many people got discouraged, turned away and regretted it for the rest of their lives. Some would lose track of why they were doing this and never be the same again. She needed to be focused. 

“Ianto,” she says. “Ianto, Ianto, Ianto, Ianto, Ianto. Ianto, my best friend. I want my best friend back. He deserves to live. I need him back.”

She repeats his name often as she walks, the reminder giving her strength to continue. Her feet are aching, yet she knows better than to stop and take a rest. The white light grows closer and closer until finally it disappears and Gwen can stop. 

She swings her backpack around and takes out a flashlight, turning it on, and placing it on the ground. Then she pulls out one of her blankets to wrap around herself. Laying down, Gwen curls around herself, using her backpack as a pillow, and finally passing out from exhaustion. She will be alright; the forest will protect her. 

Her dreams that night are murky. She sees Ianto, drifting aimlessly in black water. She swims to him and grasps him, but he isn’t breathing. Please, she thinks, I want him back. Suddenly he’s gone, and she’s alone, nothing but dark water and a black sky surrounding her. _Help_ , she screams, and gasps awake. 

She’s safe. It was nothing but a dream, and she’s in the forest.

It is bright daylight, the time unknown, and not to be known. Clocks don’t work here, and she was warned not to bring one. She turns off the flashlight next to her and places both it, and the blanket, into her backpack. She brushes off the loose leaves from her clothes and stands up. Beside her is a ring of white spotted mushrooms. 

A fairy ring. 

She pulls out a sandwich and begins to eat, taking long sips of water as she does. When nothing is left but crumbs, she takes the remaining sandwiches and water bottles out of her backpack and places it on the ground. She won’t need it yet. Pulling out the twenty pence coin, she steps neatly into the fairy ring. She places the coin on the ground, tails up. 

“Ianto,” Gwen calls. “I’m coming for you.”

The coin starts to vibrate and finally sinks into the ground. Gwen puts on one of her coats, pulls out her flashlight, and closes her eyes. She imagines sinking into the ground, all of her dropping down little by little, until she is fully covered in the dirt. She imagines the mud going in through her mouth, choking her lungs, roots poking at her ribs, until she is immersed into the ground. She does not open her eyes for several minutes, only feeling herself sinking lower and lower. Finally, she smells the sharp smell of smoke, and she knows that it is safe to open her eyes. 

Gwen finds herself in a dark tunnel. The walls are made of mud and dirt; roots are growing out the side, and rats scuttle around her feet. The acrid smell of smoke is still present, filling her lungs in the worst way. The air is cold, and Gwen can’t help but shiver. This is normal, she reminds herself. This is for Ianto.

She switches out the batteries in her dying flashlight and heads forwards. The tunnel stretches for miles before her. Gwen walks, ignoring the dirt falling upon her head, the insects that brush upon her, and the deep feeling of wrongness. She soon reaches a house. 

The house is dilapidated. It is dark and grey, its shutters are broken, and strange shadows fall across them, as if there are people walking by. She strides forwards and knocks confidently upon the door. The sound echoes all around her. She takes a step back, and the door creaks open. There stands a woman, clad only in a grey dress. Her skin is sallow, her grey hair droops across her shoulders, and her teeth are sharp as she smiles at Gwen. 

There is something wrong with her eyes. 

“Hello, Gwen Cooper. Can I have something pretty?” she asks. 

Gwen extracts the white rose from her backpack and hands it to the woman, looking anywhere but into her eyes. The woman smiles wider, sharp teeth glinting in the light emanating from her flashlight. 

“Would you like to come in and eat something?” she asks. 

“I will come in,” Gwen says, very specifically. “But I will not eat anything.”

“Suit yourself,” the woman says, and turns on her heel. The grey dress floats around her as she stalks into the house. Gwen follows her into a small room. There is nothing in the room but a small table with two chairs. The woman sits on one chair and gestures to the other. Gwen takes a seat. 

The woman picks up the antique teapot and pours in tea into her cup. She piles her cake with scones and little sandwiches and begins to eat. Gwen sits silently until the woman clears her throat. 

“So, tell me about one of your favorite memories,” she says. 

“A favorite memory?” Gwen asks. The woman nods, and she begins talking. “One day, I brought my husband and my two best friends with me to my favorite ice cream place. One of my friends doesn’t like ice cream. He’s fussy, you know. Says it hurts his teeth. So I told him to order something else. Do you know what he ordered?”

“What?” the woman asks, raptured. 

“Coffee!” she exclaims. “The man ordered coffee at an ice cream store. All of us made fun of him, as he deserved. He had so many choices, you know. He didn’t have to have ice cream. He could have had a pastry - they sold those too.”

“And what did you order?” the woman asks. 

“Chocolate, of course. I think it’s the best ice cream flavor. Anyway, it’s better than ordering coffee,” Gwen responds. 

The woman chuckles. She leans forwards, smiling. “I like you, Gwen. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes,” Gwen says immediately. 

“Your mother, Mary, resented you at times. You had The Gift, same as Aelwen, and your grandmother wanted to help foster it in you. Mary said no,” the woman says. “She was jealous, you see, and she hated that it skipped her. That’s why the resurrection gauntlet worked so well for you. If you can find the rest of the armour, it’ll work for Anwen too.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Gwen says. The news bothers her, but she’s been reminded not to let it show on her face. The woman keeps smiling. 

“I have something for you,” the woman says. She takes out a necklace, something that looks incredibly similar to the one Tosh wore at her wedding. Gwen extends her hand, and the woman drops it into her palm. 

“Thank you for being so kind,” Gwen says. The woman nods, and she pushes the chair back, scraping it harshly against the floor. She turns and exits the house. Time to keep walking.

This is supposed to be the longest portion of the journey. She will have to keep walking for a while. At one point, she gets so tired that she drops down to the ground and leans against the walls of the tunnel, wrapping herself in the blanket to keep warm, and passes out. She wakes up with a crick in her neck and a terrible taste in her mouth. Her backpack feels like it is cement. There is newly appeared food inside it that she does not recognize and does not touch. But she has to keep moving. 

For Ianto. 

Finally, after it seems like days have passed, she reaches a wide sprawling river. There stands the woman. 

“Hello,” Gwen says. 

She pulls out the necklace and shows it to her. The woman takes it and hands her back the rose, which she deposits in her backpack. The woman gestures to the boat, and she clumsily gets into it. The woman walks away, and the boat releases off the shore and begins to drift through the river. 

The fog swirls around her, thick and heavy. It is too dense to see through, and she makes no attempt to try. The fog is for her own good. It floats silently, wiggling slightly at the ripples in the water. Gwen sits silently. The boat keeps going until it hits the bank harshly, jolting her. She gets out of the boat silently. 

The fog is thick around her. She can only see the white of the fog as she wanders forward. All around her, she can feel the heavy mist revolve until suddenly it dissipates. She’s left in a golden field. Above her is nothing but black, and all around her are shadowy figures that walk around slowly, dragging their feet through the wheat ears. 

The silence is unbearable. 

Gwen hums softly to herself in an effort to stave off the wrongness. She meanders slowly through the golden field, searching all around her. Auntie Aelwen said it could take a while, so she isn’t in any sort of hurry. The golden stalks brush against her thighs as she passes them, leaving a funny sensation. After hours, or perhaps even days, she sees him. 

Ianto stands in front of her, wearing the pinstripe suit he wore when he died. There is no cut on his cheek and no smile on his face. He stands there, as stiller than she’s ever seen him. She approaches him cautiously. 

“Hello,” she says softly. Ianto startles, looking frightened. He shakes, eyes wide in fear. 

“Who are you?” he asks, trembling. 

“It’s okay; it’s alright,” she says to him. “My, you do look a sight. I like the suit, although I will admit, I liked the purple one better.”

Gwen keeps reassuring him, keeping a small distance. She longs to wrap him in her arms but knows she can’t. Ianto’s eyes have stopped looking at her, but she knows he is listening. She babbles quiet nonsense, words she uses when rocking Anwen to sleep. It’s quite peaceful, and the silence is not so deafening anymore. 

Soon, Ianto looks at her more clearly. He squints his eyes at her, and she keeps talking, unbothered by it. 

“You’re alive,” he says. 

“Yes,” Gwen says. 

“What does it smell like, up there?”

“Depends,” she answers. “In my house, it smells of baby formula and lavender. The lavender’s there to cover up the other, but somehow it always smells like both. It’s odd.”

“What’s your favorite smell?” he asks.

“Coffee,” she responds sadly. “The smell of a fresh roast. I only ever liked the smell of my best friend’s coffee though. Nothing else ever compares to it.”

“Oh,” Ianto says. “That’s nice.”

“Are you cold?” she asks him. He nods yes, and she peels off her jacket, handing it to him. He accepts it gratefully and puts it on. Gwen has to fight the urge to laugh. The jacket doesn’t fit him properly, but he hugs it around himself, basking in the warmth. 

“Do you know me?” he asks.

“Yes,” Gwen says. “Your name is Ianto Jones.”

“Oh,” he says. “Ianto Jones.”

His attitude seems to change. He stands up straighter, the fear leaves his eyes, and he begins to smile as he accepts the identity. Gwen has to fight her tears as he softly whispers “Ianto Jones” to himself several times. She takes out his stopwatch and hands it to him. Ianto holds the stopwatch reverently, touching its edges and feeling the button at the top. He places it delicately into his pocket. Gwen extends out her hand. 

“My name is Gwen,” she says. “Do you want to leave?”

Ianto nods and clasps her hand with his. She tries not to shudder at his touch. It’s rather like touching Owen after he died, cool and unpleasant. She grips it tightly as they walk back to the river. She can’t let go. 

When they reach the river, she spots the woman again. Reaching into her backpack, she takes out the white rose, not letting go of Ianto’s hand. Gwen hands the woman the rose, and she gives back the necklace in return. Gwen leads Ianto into it and sits next to him on the boat, gripping his hand hard. The boat ride back is silent; she can hear nothing but the sounds of the waves crashing against the boat. Ianto doesn’t speak, and neither does she. The boat docks at the other side, and she gets out, encouraging Ianto to follow her. 

“Come on darling, this way,” she says, and pulls Ianto with her into the tunnel. They walk back the way she came, through the dirt walls of the tunnel. He has trouble keeping up with her, but she drags him with her anyway. Her stomach rumbles. She hasn’t eaten in so long. Still, the thought of freedom and Ianto pushes her to keep moving forward with him. Ianto holds out for a while, but then he stumbles and trips. 

He falls to his knees and shakes, hugging himself. He’s sobbing, rocking back and forth on his knees. It’s starting to break her heart. 

“I’m tired, Gwen,” he says mid-sob. “I’m so tired.”

“Shh darling, it’ll be okay,” Gwen soothes. “You can rest soon.”

She pulls him into her arms and picks him up, slinging an arm across his back and under his knees. He’s so light, lighter than Anwen, that it’s almost like she’s carrying nothing. Gwen babbles to him as she walks, telling him about her day, about Anwen, about Rhys. She tells him about Anwen’s little pink hair bow that she despises and her attempts to make Rhys a birthday cake, which ended in disaster. She puts the fact that he’s not breathing out of her mind. It was just like hugging Owen, she thinks. They walk until they reach the woman’s house. 

“We’re almost there,” she says to Ianto. He hums softly in response, too tired to speak. 

She heads on, but she knows in her heart that something is behind her. Something is watching her. It knows she’s there. 

Auntie Aelwen had warned specifically of this. Do not look behind, she had said. It’s not for you to know. Ianto shakes in her arms. She kneels down to the ground, placing him delicately on the dirt, and pulls her backpack in front of her. She takes out her blanket, and wraps it around him. Then, she picks him up again and keeps going. 

Near the edge of the horizon, Gwen sees a faint light. Relief floods her entire body, and she runs towards it, Ianto getting heavier and heavier in her arms. She races towards it until finally the light envelops her. White fills her vision, and she keeps going, running desperately until she leaps out of the fairy circle. She drops to her knees, placing Ianto’s heavy body onto the ground. 

“Breathe!” she yells at him. “Please, Ianto, breathe!”

Ianto doesn’t move, and her heart drops. He can’t be gone - not after everything that has just happened. Then he takes in a gasping breath and panting harshly. Gwen laughs in relief and pulls him towards her, wrapping him in a soul-crushing hug. He sags against her, like a puppet with its strings cut. 

“I want to sleep,” he says, sounding like a child. 

“Soon,” she promises him. “Eat first.”

Ianto leans against her as she reaches for the food she left at the edge of the fairy ring and prys open the container. She feeds him the sandwiches, making him eat all of it bit by bit. Ianto groans when she forces him to eat more, but he doesn’t vocalize any complaints. 

“Can I sleep?” he asks when he’s finished. 

Gwen nods. “Are you cold?”

“Yes,” he says. Gwen pulls out her other jacket and drapes it over him. She holds him in her arms, trying to keep him as warm as possible, and falls asleep. 

Gwen wakes up to the sound of birds chirping. She is lying next to Ianto, who is still sleeping. She waits for him to wake up, stroking his hair gently, and humming softly. He sleeps for another hour, chest slowly rising and falling. Gwen keeps a steady hand on his chest, needing to feel him breathing. He wakes up slowly, eyes fluttering open softly.

“Gwen?” he asks after looking around at his surroundings. “Where are we?”

She finally breaks, the tight lid on her emotions bursting open. Gwen lunges at him, squeezing him as tight as she can. She sobs into his shoulder, and he pats her back, still confused. She doesn’t let go for a while. 

“What happened?” Ianto asks again. “Why are we in a forest? Did Jack send us here for a mission?”

She almost starts crying again. 

“No,” she manages to say. “It’s a long story. Let’s get out of here first.”

And they start walking out of the forest together, away from the fairy circle and towards the living, hand in hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos/Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here](https://violetmessages.tumblr.com/)


End file.
